


Claustrophobia

by MsThunderFrost



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, Elevators, Fear of dark, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Not So Brotherly Love, Some Humor, Trapped In Elevator, Unloved Kid!Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Steve get trapped in an elevator on the way to their twenty-two week check-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claustrophobia

** Claustrophobia **

“I fail to understand the reason for these so-called ‘check-ups’ with your Midgardian healers.” Loki looked around the doctor’s office with contempt. “My magic is more than suffice to maintain the fetus’ health.”

“I know, I know.” Steve rolled his eyes, hooking an arm around Loki’s lithe shoulders. “It’s just a precautionary measure, that’s all.” He readily assured the seething man. “And, it’s a baby. Not a ‘fetus’, a _baby_.”

Loki was far from convinced. “Your Midgardian healers fail to comprehend the complexity of Jotun anatomy. I can just as easily birth the _baby_ on my own, without your misguided, _precautionary_ buffoons.”

Steve stifled a laugh. “I’m glad that you can look at the situation so objectively.”

Loki swallowed his potential response, which was probably for the best. Loki’s silver-tongue could easily out-wit or out-charm the best of them, but he acknowledged the fact that Steve disliked confrontation between them. Sometimes, it was simply easier to yield. Not _cave_ , never _cave_ – simply _yield_.

Steve took Loki by the hand and, Loki eying their interlocked-hands uncertainly, led him up to the reception desk. A large, dark mahogany desk stood in the middle of the room, and was broken into three sections with three different receptionists respectively. Steve made a beeline for the middle receptionist.

She was a bubbly woman in her mid-twenties, perhaps early-thirties. Loose, chocolate brown curls fell down to the middle of her back and framed a sweet, oval face. Sharp, clear green eyes peered at them from beneath coal black lashes, and her ruby lips curled into a welcoming smile as they approached.

“Good afternoon, gentleman. Do you have an appointment?” She asked, eyes flickering between Steve and Loki.

Steve nodded. “Yes. We have a two o’ clock with Dr. Kissinger.”

She nodded, before turning back to her computer. Thin, well-manicured fingers flew over the keys, checking the database for the information they had just supplied. Finally, “A Mr. Rogers and Mr. Laufeyson?”

“Yes.” Steve confirmed immediately. Loki shifted uncomfortably.

“And, is all of your information still the same? Address, telephone number, insurance information, emergency contact…” she continued to read off of a long list.

“Yes, it’s all the same.” Steve confirmed. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of Loki and pulled him into his side, rubbing soothing circles onto the god’s swollen, sensitive back.

“Alright.” She printed out some papers and attached them to a clipboard, before handing them over. “Dr. Kissinger’s office is on the sixth floor. Fill these out and hand them to the receptionist upstairs.”

“Will do.” Steve nodded, before pressing gently on Loki’s back, ushering him toward the elevator. “Thanks!”

The elevator was just around the corner, to the left. Loki eyed the Midgardian contraption warily. Steve offered him a concerned look, but Loki merely brushed him off and pressed the ‘up’ button. Mere seconds later, the elevator arrived and the doors slowly parted, allowing them inside.

Loki seemed to tighten up even more upon entering the elevator, and Steve’s concern continued to mount. “Loki, is there something you want to -,”

Loki silenced him with a ‘look’. And then, randomly, “Why must that obnoxious receptionist ask all of those incessant questions?”

Steve knew how to take a hint. “It’s a whole bunch of stuff involving HIPPA. Nothing interesting, really.”

The doors to the elevator slid closed and Loki’s chest tightened up. He pressed himself as tightly as possible into the far wall, drawing in a deep breath and squeezing his eyes closed. Steve watched him uncertainly. Even without Loki saying a word of confirmation, Steve wasn’t blind. The signs were painfully clear as day.

The heightened awareness of his surroundings, even to the point of crossing over into hyper vigilance. His breath was coming fast and labored, almost as if he were in labor at that moment (which would have been an actual fear, had he not only been five and a half months pregnant). Loki was claustrophobic.

And then, a hellish _screech_ assaulted their eardrums. The elevator, which had been climbing up to the sixth floor at a heightened rate, suddenly began plummeting toward the very bowels of the building. Loki howled, sliding down the wall and pushing himself deep into the corner. Sparks flew as metal scraped against metal.

“Loki? _Loki!”_ The small raven was curled in on himself, or, at least, as much as his swollen belly would allow. Wild panic was clear in his eyes as the lights of the elevator flickered on and off, before cutting completely.

Steve blindly navigated across the elevator shaft, smashing his hands over the buttons on the control panel until he finally located the emergency stop. The car lurched, before giving off an otherworldly _screech_ and slowly sliding to a complete halt. Then, he turned back to where he assumed Loki was.

“Loki?” He said softly, listening to the soft mewl he received in answer. “Loki, where are you? Loki?”

As if in answer, the light in the elevator gave off a blue jolt. Reinvigorated by Loki’s magic, the light returned, casting an eerie blue glow over the room similar to that seen in horror movies set in hospitals. “O-Over here.”

Steve fell to his knees beside Loki and gently pulled the other man into him, startled by the way that Loki all but crumbled into his arms. “Loki… Loki, its okay. One of the cables must’ve snapped, that’s all. It’s okay.”

Loki was able to force out a meager, “I told you that no good could come from Midgardian healers.”

“No, you’re right. You’re right.” Steve steadfastly assured. He spread his legs and pulled Loki in to rest on his chest. “I’ll listen to you next time, alright? Hell, I’ll even carry you up the stairs, if that’s what you want.”

Steve smoothed his hands over the subtle baby bump, trying to soothe their restless little girl. The fact that she was kicking every few seconds clearly wasn’t helping Loki’s obvious distress. His attempts to soothe the little one were in vain, however. She seemed to be feeding off of Loki’s panic, which wouldn’t relent soon.

Steve knew that he needed to distract the god of mischief, and so he proposed, “Have you been thinking of any more names for the baby?”

They’d had quite an extensive talk about potential baby names for their unborn daughter. Loki had been amazed at how open Steve had been at the potential for a name befitting Loki’s combined Jotun and Asgardian heritage. Considering their unborn child would be a demi-god, Steve found the idea rather becoming.

“I’m particularly fond of Frosthildr and Róta.” Loki said softly. Steve gently pressed down just above the curve of his abdomen, forcing him to take a deep breath and slowly release.

“Oh?” Steve liked the authentic, unique quality that both of the names possessed. “What do they mean?”

The light above their heads flickered and Loki squeezed his eyes closed. Steve held him a little tighter. “The first means ‘frost battle’. The second literally translates to ‘discord’.”

“It _would_ be just like you to choose two names associated with violence and, well, _discord_.” Steve laughed wryly.

“With the blood of a god and your mutated genetics, our daughter will be a fine warrior.” Loki replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, if you’re so sure…” Steve teased, “Then, personally, I’m in favor of Róta.”

Silence prevailed, and, this time, Steve let it remain for several moments. Loki’s erratic heart rate was slowly coming down and the baby’s kicks had become few and far between. In fact, he might have been afraid that Loki was slipping into shock, had it not been for the bright coherency he saw reflected into his love’s eyes.

Steve hoped that their little Róta would look exactly like Loki, a little goddess of discord with curly black hair and turbulent green eyes. Slowly, he worked his fingers over Loki’s swollen belly, picturing the new life growing within him in his mind’s eye. Yes, she’d be beautiful. She’d be beautiful, and she’d be theirs.

Finally, he asked the inevitable question. “So… claustrophobia?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Thor’s baboonish friends once thought it was funny to lock me in the royal pantry while they went out gallivanting in Vanahiem. They forgot about me and left me in there for a day and a half.”

“Oh dear God…” Steve could only imagine little Loki, runt of the litter, locked in a pantry for that long. He must’ve felt so alone… so scared… _so cold_ … “Didn’t anyone _look_ for you?”

Loki scoffed. “Search for the bastard prince of Asgard? They were _overjoyed_ at my disappearance.”

Steve doubted that, having heard how fondly Loki recounted memories of himself and his mother, Frigga. The late Queen of Asgard seemed to be the only one able to escape the Jotun Prince’s wrath. He couldn’t imagine that such a benevolent Queen would not search for her younger son… but there was much he still did not know.

“You must’ve been so scared.” Steve soothed, and then, “You must be so scared _now_.”

“I’m not overly fond of the dark.” Loki replied stiffly, and Steve started to gently massage him, calming him once more.

“Who was it that found you?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

Loki sighed. Closing his eyes, he recounted, “Thor. The idiot claimed to have no hand in locking me in the pantry, but I always knew he had something to do with it. I think… even back then… I knew.”

“Did he ever confess?”

“No.” A pause. “Quite honestly, I don’t believe he ever will.”

Several minutes later, a low _whirring_ sound filled the elevator as the lights and control panel came back online. Steve slowly rose to his feet and helped Loki up as well, still holding the taller close to his body in an effort to help him remain calm as the elevator sputtered to life once more.

When the elevator slowly started to rise, Steve squeezed Loki’s hand and, surprisingly, he felt a subtle squeeze in return. A smile spread across the Captain’s face. Maybe Loki would never fully heal from the emotional trauma that he had endured early on… but he could tell that they were off to a great start.

The elevator doors opened with a soft _ping,_ allowing them out onto the sixth floor of the doctor’s office. Much to his surprise (and secret delight), Loki allowed the Captain to hold his hand as they made their way over to the reception desk – about fifteen minutes after their designated appointment time.

They were about halfway over to the desk when Loki whispered in the blond’s ear, “You know, next time I might just have to take you up on that offer to carry me up the stairs.”

The Captain just laughed. “Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.”


End file.
